The Possibility Of Love
by Charliefarley
Summary: A fan fiction inspire by Mary Shelley's Frankenstein and the Nation Theatre, London production of Frankenstein.


The Possibilty Of Love - Frankenstein Inspired Story - Rated T

Victor Frankenstein stood at his window on a cold, dark winter's day and gazed vacantly over the rooftops of London. No one knew how long he'd been stood there. Even he couldn't be sure how long he'd been there. He had been musing over ideas that had been circulating his mind since the premature death of his mother. His mother had always spoilt him as a child and had doted on him fondly.

When Victor was young a beautiful angel had joined his family. His mother had told him that Elizabeth, the owner of these enchanting wide brown eyes and long chocolate brown ringlets, was a present to him, a friend and plaything. Elizabeth, as it turned out, had been orphaned and sent to live with her legal gardians, Victor's parents. Victor, Elizabeth and Victor's younger brother, William, had all grown up together without a care or want in the world untill Elizabeth had contracted a highly contagious strain of animal flu. Despite the protests of her family Victor's mother had risked her own health to nurse Elizabeth but with every day that Elizabeth grew stronger the health of her devoted carer deteriorated. Within a week Victor's mother was on her death bed.

Close to her death, his mother had made Victor promice to protect Elizabeth and with tears pouring from his greenish blue eyes he had promised that no one would ever hurt his dear, treasured Elizabeth.

A tap on the door woke Victor from his catatonic state. He marched across the room and flung the door open to find Elizabeth carrying a tray of food. She gasped at the sudden motion and almost dropped the tray in fright.

"I brought you something to eat." she told him shyly.

"You shouldn't have." he snapped and turned away from the door to head back to the window.

"I wanted to, Victor." she smiled weakly. She was still weak from the illness and shook slightly as she carried the ladden tray.

"I'm not hungry. I won't eat it." he replied curtly.

"You've barely eaten a bite or slept a wink since... well, you've been catatonic all week. How much longer can this go on?" she asked.

"I don't know! For all eternity for all I know and care!" he barked.

"Without her around around who can fill that void? Who can give me the unconditional love and attention?"

"Me." she replied shyly.

"But you're not my mother!" he snapped.

Elizabeth knew better than to push a subject like this too far with Victor. She put the tray down at the desk and attempted to organize the chaos of his scattered books.

"Galvantisum... cloning..." she read aloud some of the subjects of the books.

"Don't touch those." he told her and tried to usher her away. "I have them all open at very specific pages and in an order that only I can know."

"What on earth are you doing with them all?" she asked.

"Reading." he replied bluntly.

"Yes, Victor. I can see that!" she laughed anxiously. "What are you reading about? What are you learning?"

"You'll think I'm mad if I tell you." he frowned.

"Oh come now Victor, you know me better than that. I adore you, I could never think ill of you!" she smiled.

"I think..." he paused. "I think I can find a way to bring the dead back to life."

"I'm not sure I like where this is going, Victor." she frowned.

"You see Elizabeth, that's the reaction I didn't want to see from you." he sighed and sank down into his desk chair with exhasperation.

"How did you want me to react?" she asked as she rubbed his tense shoulders.

"I don't know." he waved a hand dismissively. "What do you think?"

"I like you need to eat something and then have a good night's sleep." she soothed. "You're not helping yourself and it could make you ill. I would be beside myself with worry if you became ill too. Can you do that for me?"

He sighed and closed his eyes. He didn't want to admit that she was right but she was. Food and rest would sharpen his mind. He took one of her hands from his shoulders and kissed her palm.

"Alright, for you I'd anything." he smiled weakly.

"Thankyou." she replied and kissed the top of his head. She smiled to herself as his trousled ginger, curly hair tickled her nose. She'd always loved how his hair seemed to have a mind of it's own and never obeyed when she'd tried to comb his hair neatly for formal occations.

She stayed with him while he ate and told him about her day and the well wishing visitors they'd had. He nodded along with her story, making noises of agreement but they both knew he wasn't listening.

"Get into bed." she told him like a doting mother as he finished eating.

"I'm not getting undressed in front of you." he replied shyly.

"Victor, we've grown up together and I've seen your skinny legs when we go swimming. It's nothing to be shy about." she smiled.

"We were children then, it's different now." he grumbled.

"Alright." she sighed and kissed his pale cheek. "Goodnight."

"Night" he muttered.

"Now go to bed." she comanded as she left, closing the door behind her.

The next morning Victor woke from a broken night's sleep. He'd been plauged with nightmares of undead zombies surrounding his bed. When he'd looked at the faces in more detail he saw faces he knew, faces he loved but faces that were ravaged by death and decay.

"Are you awake?" Elizabeth cooed quietly at the door the had creaked ajar during the night.

Victor groaned in reply, a sound that echoed the zombies of the nightmares.

"How did you sleep?" Elizabeth asked as she put another tray of food on the desk.

Victor looked at her properly for the first time in years. She had grown into an undeniably beautiful young woman. The peachy colour had returned to her cheeks since the illness subsided and she seemed stronger.

"Yoo hoo!" she cooed. "Are you listening?"

"Don't we have servants to do that?" he nodded towards the tray.

"Clarice is not your servant. She's a house maid who cleans. It's not her job to feed you. You know fine well that's not her job." she frowned. "But you must be feeling better. You've got your man of the house tone back. And just to clarify, you're not the man of the house either. Your father is but you act like you think you are."

"You must be feeling better. You've started fussing over me again." he retorted like a child.

"I asked you a question. Did you sleep well?" she asked.

"No." he grumbled. He saw her giving him is pressing look. "I had bad dreams. I don't want to talk about it."

"Ok." Elizabeth sighed and left the room.


End file.
